


People Like Us

by SpicyPepper_SweetSugar



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Mentions of Panic Attacks, My first Bellarke fic, Post 2x01, hurt &comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyPepper_SweetSugar/pseuds/SpicyPepper_SweetSugar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy comes to terms with the feelings he might be having for Clarke.<br/>Post 2x01 but kind of a future fic at the same time, so it diverts from canon because I'm not sure what'll actually happen on the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	People Like Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Bellarke fic ever, so please be kind. There might be a risk that the characters are a little OOC because I have never tried to capture them before, but I really hope I did them justice and I sincerely hope you like it! =)

” **People Like Us”**

**Word count: 6,883**

* * *

 

It isn't until they return to _Camp Jaha_ that Bellamy realizes how much things are about to change.

His hands are bound behind his back as the guards lead him through the campsite and he looks around, spotting survivors of the Ark everywhere. Spotting a few children in the crowd almost brings a smile to his face, until he remembers the terrors that they are most likely going to live through now that they've returned to the Earth.

The guards force him to sit on a log as _Chancellor Kane_ barks out orders to the people, showing him once again that he is no longer in charge.

It almost makes him feel sick.

Not because he misses the authority, or because he thinks he might be a better leader than Kane, but because the older man has _no idea_ what's actually down here and there is _no way_ he would be able to lead the people of the Ark better than Bellamy himself or Clarke.

 _Clarke_.

The thought of the blonde stirs some strange feeling inside of him. He wonders what happened to her after she and the other delinquents came out of the dropship. Raven was still there, so they too must have survived the blast... But where had they gone?

That is only one of the questions that keeps circling around in his brain as he sits on the log, one guard on either side of him, as if to make sure that he doesn't pounce on Murphy– bound hands and all– as the murdering son of a bitch passes him on his way into the remainders of the Ark.

The other question that keeps burning in his mind is whether or not Octavia made it out of there safely with her Grounder ( _Lincoln,_ he reminds himself, because the man clearly deserves more respect since he basically sacrificed himself to keep Octavia safe.). And then his mind goes back to Clarke, _and the others_.

He is so deep in his own thoughts, that he doesn't even hear Dr. Griffin approach him until she's standing right in front of him and he's looking up at her.

The woman is carrying a medical kit and tells the guards to give them some privacy because she wants to check on Bellamy and apparently, that means that they need to be alone.

Bellamy already knows what she really wants, but lets her clean the wounds on his face. His face remains neutral, not wincing even though it stings like hell at times and even Abby makes a face at one of the more gruesome scrapes.

“Do you think Clarke is safe?” Abby whispers, so low that he almost thinks he's imagined her words altogether. He had gotten used to the silence, now that almost everyone who had been outside had retired into the tents and the safety of the metal box that used to be a part of the Ark.

“I think we've established that we don't know anything about where the others have gone,” Bellamy replies, his voice as neural as possible. “Besides, we wouldn't want to anger the new Chancellor now, would we? By trying to look for them ourselves, I mean.”

Abby doesn't say anything as she meets his gaze, but he can see the same questions that are circling in his own mind burning in hers. She cleans his cuts on his face before moving to the bruises on his hands that he received when he punched Murphy (or maybe it was Tristan?).

“Was Clarke still alive the last time you saw her?” Abby asks the next time she speaks.

“Yes,” Bellamy answers, refusing to look away from her stare.

She lets out a shaky breath and he wonders for a moment if the woman is about to start crying. He wouldn't be able to handle it, not when he feels so unstable himself.

“While you were here alone, did she seem to be doing okay?” Abby continues, but Bellamy has had enough and pulls his injured hand away from her.

“Why don't you go talk to Finn about this, huh?” he suggests, and he's surprised by the bitterness in his own tone. “He knows her better than I do.”

Abby shakes her head, “There are two reasons that I decided to speak to you, Blake and one of them was that Clarke vouched for _you_. Jaha told me that himself before-” she cuts herself off and shakes her head. “She talked about you and she never mentioned Finn to me except for that time that he had been stabbed. That must mean that she had some kind of connection to you-”

“We used to lead the others together before we got separated,” Bellamy interrupts her, mostly because the weird sense of pride that's welling in his chest is confusing and he can't stand to hear the doctor talking about what her daughter may or may not have said.

“See,” Abby lets out a small chuckle that's actually more of an exhale, “a _connection_.”

Bellamy watches her as she reaches for his hand again, continuing the work he had interrupted when he had pulled away a moment ago. It still stings, but the words Clarke's mother had spoken dulled his senses.

He knew that he cared about Clarke; at least enough so that he didn't want her to be dead. But that was just as much as he cared about the others, wasn't it? Or was whatever it was that he was feeling for Clarke different? He didn't know what to believe anymore, so he just simply decided not to believe anything.

“Do you want to know what the other reason? To why I came to you and didn't go to Finn?” Abby asks him, a small smile playing on her lips.

“You'll probably tell me even if I say no,” Bellamy muttered under his breath, but Abby's smile widened slightly, so he knew that she had heard him.

“I overheard Finn talking to Kane and he kept talking about Clarke and the others in past tense, almost as if they were already dead,” she explains. “You talk as if she's still alive.”

Once again, Bellamy felt sick. The probability of Clarke and the others being dead had crossed his mind a few times already, but he didn't dare to think that way. He wanted them to be alive– he _needed_ them to be alive... So, they simply _were_.

Abby closes the medical kit and gives him one last look, standing from the place where she had been kneeling on the ground. She looks at him expectantly and he wants to tell her that he has never been one to live up to expectations and that she shouldn't put her faith in him. Still, when Abby sighs and starts walking away, he reaches for her hand, grasping it and halting her in her steps before she can walk away.

“I will find her, Dr. Griffin,” he promises, even though he knows he shouldn't. He doesn't even know why he's doing it, but he is and somehow, it feels as if that says something about him that he just hasn't figured out yet. “I _will_ find Clarke... And the others too,” he adds thoughtfully. “Even if it's the last thing I do.”

Their eyes stay connected and the doctor nods, lightly squeezing his hand so that she'll show her gratefulness without hurting his injured limb.

“Do you care about Clarke, Bellamy?” she suddenly asks and Bellamy doesn't know what to say. Instead, he pulls his hand away from her and remains seated on the log while staring up at her.

He doesn't reply and Dr. Griffin eventually walks away, an understanding look that just confuses him written across her face.

* * *

A week passes and Bellamy is finally released from the holding cell that he's been kept in. He isn't surprised to learn that Abby had a part in convincing the Chancellor to release him and allow him to assemble a small unit to help him in the search for the others.

Kane is skeptic, of course, and he's convinced that Bellamy will only get himself and everyone else killed on the mission. Bellamy says nothing to protect himself, but he is surprised when Finn steps up and tells Kane that Bellamy and Clarke have kept him and the majority of the kids that _t_ _he Council_ sent down to die, alive.

Abby once again shows that she trusts Bellamy by making sure that he has a tent for himself and an extra blanket, because it's been getting colder since the Ark fell. She also brings him a map that Kane apparently felt too proud to give him himself and even though the majority of the people in the camp try to stay away from him, Abby stops by a few times a day to check when he's going to start looking for Clarke.

 _And the others_ , he has to remind himself.

Bellamy doesn't want to tell Abby about his plans, because he's pretty sure that the stubborn woman is just trying to figure out if she can somehow come with him on his quest, but he knows that she is needed more in the camp, especially now that Raven has had her surgery and is still in recovery.

They cover the closest part of the woods in a week. It's just Bellamy, Finn, Miller's father, two other guards and _Murphy_ , much to Bellamy's dismay. Bellamy knows that Murphy has information about the grounder's camp that can be useful and that is the _only_ reason that he allows him to come along. Every night that they camp out in the woods, he and Finn make sure to sit as far away from Murphy as possible, and when Miller's dad asks them about it, they tell him the truth for their dislike of the other teen.

After that, Miller's father makes sure that he is the one sleeping between Murphy and them and Bellamy knows that there was a reason that he trusted the man's son.

They return to Camp Jaha empty handed after a week and Bellamy hates the crestfallen look on Abby's face when she realizes that Clarke isn't with them.

“We'll find her,” he promises again, when he finds the older woman in his tent, silently crying.

“I know you will,” Abby nods, before walking out again.

Bellamy starts questioning whether or not he's really cut out to find Clarke and the others. He asks himself if he should instead start trying to head toward the ocean, where he should be able to find Octavia and Lincoln. There, he might be safe and he can finally get away from Kane and everything that reminds him of the life he had on the Ark.

He shakes his head, remembering that he's made a promise to the good doctor.

And if there's one thing he knows, it's that Bellamy Blake does his best not to break his promises.

* * *

He almost doesn't believe it when he sees them.

Jasper, Monty, Miller and a couple of dozen other people walking toward him and his small unit through the woods.

There's smoke coming from Mount Weather, and the loud explosion had shaken the ground and it had been the reason Bellamy had immediately exited the camp with his unit before Kane could even try to start assembling his own forces.

Bellamy looks at the delinquents who are walking toward them and his whole body feels as if it's on fire. He looks for _her_ , but he doesn't see her at first. Suddenly, Jasper and Monty are hugging him and he realizes that they are _really there_ and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face.

“Bellamy?”

He freezes and stares ahead as the other kids spread and the blonde steps out. She's been walking last, making sure that everyone is safe and not falling behind; _protecting them_ , like a true leader. A smile breaks out on her face, “Bellamy!”

Suddenly, she is running, _toward him_ and his chest feels tight while it simultaneously feels like he can _breathe_ again. Jasper and Monty step away from him and just as he begins to raise his hand, to reach toward her– Clarke stops, and looks right past him.

“Clarke!” Spacewalker's voice rings out and Bellamy resists closing his eyes and sighing exasperatedly.

“Finn,” Clarke says slowly, but her eyes flicker to Bellamy briefly before moving back to Finn. Bellamy feels Finn walk past him and then watches as the other boy promptly embraces Clarke and she hugs him back, just as tightly.

The constriction in Bellamy's chest returns once more, but this time, it feels ten times worse for some unexplainable reason. It doesn't exactly help that Clarke keeps staring at him over Finn's shoulder, nor that Miller has reunited with his father, which only makes him miss Octavia even more.

That's the moment that Bellamy realizes that he wishes he had been faster than Finn. He wishes that he had been quicker to approach Clarke and that the blonde had now been in his arms instead of in the Spacewalker's.

Clarke pulls away from Finn's embrace and gives him a teary eyed smile before turning to look at Bellamy, “I'm glad you're alive.”

Her words seem to be meant as some kind of comfort, but it only makes that horrible feeling appear in his gut again. Bellamy nods at her curtly, but says nothing back.

Instead, he barks out orders and makes sure that they all get back to Camp Jaha safely.

* * *

Now that Clarke and the other 48– _48_ , his brain cries out– are back, things once again change. Bellamy still has his own tent, but Kane has pulled back the guards who had worked on his team. After all, _they_ hadn't been the ones who had saved the 48, because they had saved themselves and escaped from the Mountain Men without any help from Bellamy or his small task force.

Miller's dad was still thankful though, and the kids still turned to him from time to time. The thing though, was that now, most of the remaining delinquents had a parent down on Earth and those who didn't were quickly adopted into families that welcomed them with open arms.

He wasn't a leader anymore and he felt absolutely _useless_.

Clarke had told the story about what had happened on Mount Weather to Kane and the new Chancellor had made sure that the people in camp _stayed_ in camp, unless it was absolutely necessary for them to go out. The guards took care of the hunting and the civilians stayed safe.

Clarke's rescue of Anya and the other grounders that had been kept prisoners by the Mountain Men led to an agreement between the two leaders that consisted of the grounders leaving the 'Sky People' alone as long as they didn't make any other notions of war.

So here Bellamy was, sitting on the same log he had been sitting on when he had made his promise to Abby that he would find her daughter, watching as a big fire burned in front of him and people laughed and smiled around him, happy for another chance at life.

He feels her before he sees her and he doesn't turn to look at her when she sits down on the log beside him.

“What are you doing here all alone?” Clarke asks him, but even though he knows that she's smiling, he can hear the worry laced in her words.

“I can't stop thinking about Octavia,” he confesses, eyes not moving from the fire and the people dancing.

“I'm sure she's fine, Bellamy,” Clarke reassures. “Lincoln would never let anything bad happen to her. She'll find her way back to us.”

Her hand comes to rest on top of his and he is shocked at the buzzing feeling he gets in his fingertips suddenly. He blames the cold, but looks up at her and meets her blue eyes that he realizes he's missed, oh so much.

“I don't know what to think anymore, Clarke,” he tells her and she nods her head.

“I understand,” she replies. “Not only don't I know what to think anymore, but I hardly even know what to _do_ anymore. I'm used to being in charge around here and now, my _mom's_ alive and back and Kane is here and– Bellamy Blake, do _not_ laugh at me!” she scolds, but there's laughter in her tone as well.

He can't help the chuckles that shake his body, because he actually feels like crying because she _does_ understand and he can't believe he didn't see it until know, but he feels like it's better to laugh than to cry– better show strength than _weakness_.

“The Princess misses her underlings,” he teases her and she playfully punches his shoulder. “I'm sure you had a lot of fun organizing your escape from the Mountain. Bossing people around and all that jazz.”

“People still say that?” Clarke wonders. “I thought it was just something they said in movies from _a hundred years ago_.”

“I enjoy those old movies,” he replies, pretending to be hurt by her insinuation that he's old. He's sure he isn't _that much_ older than her...

“Of course you would,” Clarke smiles and suddenly, Bellamy realizes that her hand is still covering his. “But no,” her smile falters, “I didn't have fun bossing people around inside that Mountain. Most of the time I was just trying to convince them that something was wrong...”

She trails off and he realizes it's something that she would much rather not talk about, because it clearly holds painful memories.

“Hey, Princess,” he says instead, making her turn to look at him again. For a moment, the clear blue color in his eyes distracts him and he feels as if he's drowning, but then he catches himself and smiles lightly instead, “I'm glad you're back.”

It doesn't take long for another smile to break out on Clarke's face, “I'm glad to be back.”

She squeezes his hand ever so lightly and he turns it so that his palm meets hers, but he isn't sure which one of them it is that laces their fingers together.

All he knows is that it feels _right_ , and that scares him more than _anything_.

* * *

There's a change between them after that, but he doesn't dare pinpoint it exactly.

He feels selfish, because he knows he probably shouldn't be encouraging the soft smiles she sends his way whenever their eyes meet, yet he does it every time because he doesn't want them to stop.

When Octavia returns, she returns with Lincoln in a tow and an agreement with the man's clan that they won't cause any harm to the people of the Ark. This pleases Kane and he pardons Octavia for being born, which Bellamy frankly finds stupid because it's not as if Octavia could have told his mother not to get pregnant with her. Clarke agrees, because when Kane speaks the words, she looks over at him and rolls her eyes before smiling that secret smile of hers that seems to be meant just for him.

Octavia catches the way he grins back and looks down at the ground to keep from laughing out loud and later, when he's in his tent, his younger sister storms into his tent and demands to know how long _it_ has been going on.

“How long has _what_ been going on?” he asks as he lays in bed, playing with a piece red string that he and Clarke found in a bunker close by that they inspected without Kane's permission.

(The man had been pissed when they had returned, but Clarke had made sure to give him a piece of her mind and he had backed away with his grace intact, pride slightly bruised. After that Kane had agreed to let the older former criminals walk around outside of camp as long as they returned before dark.

Bellamy had stood by her side the entire time, the pride written on his face the only thing that needed to be seen.)

“You and Clarke!” Octavia hissed, taking a seat on his cot.

“We've been co-leaders ever since we came down here, O,” Bellamy rolls his eyes.

“Not _that_ ,” Octavia almost screeches as she slaps his leg wildly. “How long have you been _together-_ together?”

Her words cause Bellamy to look up at her, the red string tangled between his fingers. He feels that guilty weight returning suddenly, because he finally understands why the Spacewalker seems to have backed away from Clarke, and why Dr. Griffin always invites him to sit with her and Clarke when they eat, and why he and Clarke always receive smiles whenever they pass the survivors of the 100.

“We're not,” he swallows thickly, looking at his sister who gives him a skeptical look. “Octavia, we're _not_.”

A look of understanding crosses Octavia's face and her hand settles on his knee, “But you'd like to be, right?”

The question burns through him like acid and his chest clenches uncomfortably because he can't believe that his sister realized it before he did.

“ _Octavia_ ,” he breathes out, closing his eyes and hating himself for how vulnerable he sounds. He needs her to be quiet and not say anything else because he's not sure he can handle it. He begs her, silently to not speak.

“Bell,” Octavia says anyway. “Are you in love with Clarke?”

His eyes snap open and the sudden warmth he feels is a strange thing. He can only remember having felt this way _once_ before and that was when he held Octavia in his arms for the first time after she was born. The exact moment he had held her, he had known that he loved her more than life itself and that he wanted to protect her with everything he had.

“Are you, Bellamy?” Octavia repeated, reaching for his hand that kept nervously tugging on the red string.

He met her gaze and apparently, that was the only answer Octavia needed.

* * *

He starts avoiding Clarke.

Not on purpose exactly, but more as an unconscious thing he keeps doing and doesn't realize he's doing until Murphy of all people point it out to him. He tells the other pardoned teenager to shut up and be happy that he has decided not to kill him and Murphy gracefully retreats.

Clarke's smiles have disappeared, replaced by a constant frown that appears every time he's near and doesn't speak to her. Every time she tries speaking to him, he answers, but always impassively and in one-word-sentences. He sees the hurt flash in her eyes each time, however, he keeps telling himself that it's for the better.

Abby keeps inviting him to eat with her and Clarke. He makes the excuse of wanting to sit with Octavia and Lincoln (who has been allowed to join them in Camp Jaha). The doctor makes a point of inviting the grounder and Octavia too and one evening when he's spun a story about being tired and heading to bed earlier, Octavia shows up in his tent with a plate of food.

“Clarke sent you this,” she angrily says, almost shoving the food in his face. “And I'm here to tell you that you're being an idiot.”

He ignores her when she starts listing the reasons to his stupidity as he devours the food on the plate. When he's had enough, he promptly stands up and shoves the plate in Octavia's hands. Against her protests, he pushes her to the exit of his tent and shoots her one last look, telling her that he doesn't need a lecture on all the things he's already aware of.

* * *

It has happened a few times, although he has done his best to keep quiet about it.

His nightmares are plagued with the feeling of the belts tightening around his neck, cutting painfully into the sensitive skin of his neck and throat as he struggles to take a breath. He screams, but no words come out because there isn't enough oxygen in his lungs for a sound to be carried out.

He wakes up drenched in his own sweat, hands on his neck as he gulps for air with wide eyes, failing each time to inhale.

This time is different though.

This time, he sees the flaps of his tent open and a figure with blonde hair walk in just as he's gasping, his lungs burning.

“Bellamy!” the person exclaims, running to him, her hands immediately on his cheeks. “Calm down!”

“ _Clarke!_ ” he wheezes without actually meaning to, because her voice is slowly bringing him out of the nightmare.

“Hold your breath,” she instructs him, covering his mouth with her hand, pinching his nose shut with the other. “You're having a panic attack.”

He wants to tell her that rebel kings like himself don't get panic attacks even though he can finally feel himself calming down, with Clarke's help.

His breathing returns to normal and he closes his eyes when she gently moves her hands so that they are yet again cupping his cheeks. He does his best not to move into her touch and to be honest, it's a struggle.

“How long has this been going on?” she asks him, her voice a whisper as she brushes away the sweat on his forehead.

“Does it matter?” he rasps out, shaking his head lightly.

“How long have you been having panic attacks, _Bell_?”

His eyes open when he hears her use his nickname and his chest feels heavy and light all at the same time.

If he was going to be honest with her, he would tell her that he's been having the nightmares ever since Murphy hung him up. The event must have triggered some repressed memory of his, because then the nightmares of his mother being floated returned, along with every other bad dream he's ever had in his life. He understands that she wants to know, but he isn't ready to tell her that yet.

Instead, he grabs her wrist, and suddenly, his attention is solely on the rough patch of skin beneath his thumb. He looks down and sees a long scar in an almost perfect vertical line over her wrist.

“ _Clarke._ ”

Her name is a plea on his lips and he wants an explanation. The hypocrisy of the situation doesn't escape him because he's aware of the fact that he is denying her his story while simultaneously asking her for hers.

“I cut myself when I was on Mount Weather, in the quarantine ward,” she explains, even though she has ever right in the world to deny him. He's been an ass to her the entire week, ignoring her whenever she tried to speak to him. “I was trying to escape and find Monty and the others, but I was caught. Later, when I suspected something strange was going on in the medical ward, I cut it open again just so that I would be admitted as a patient,” she confessed, staring at the scar that he is now trailing his fingers over.

There's a silence between them again and he struggles with his words.

“How did you know when to come in?” he asks her and she seems a little taken aback by his question.

“I...” she starts, but trails off before swallowing. “I was coming to see you.”

“It's _nighttime,_ Clarke,” he points out and she nods.

“I am well aware of that,” she says. “I just needed to talk to you about something and then I heard you thrashing around. At first I thought...”

“You thought what?” he questions, a frown appearing on his face when a blush spreads across Clarke's cheeks.

“I thought that maybe you weren't alone,” she confesses, the blush only deepening on her already rosy cheeks.

He wants to act like the smug asshole that he knows he is, but he can't bring himself to do it. Not when she's looking at him like he just kicked her favorite puppy and he's feeling vulnerable when she looks at him as if she's seeing right to the core of his soul.

“I would never- Clarke, you have to know that-” he keeps cutting himself off, and then her hand is on his cheek again.

“ _Bellamy_.”

His name falling from her lips seem to be his undoing.

Lower lip trembling, angry tears stinging in his eyes, he pulls away from her grip and pushes out of the bed. For a moment, he just paces around, trying desperately to calm himself because he doesn't want this; doesn't want her to see him like this.

“People like me don't get happy endings, Clarke,” he begins after a moment. “People like me are bitter and damaged. We come to a wonderful place like Earth and the _only_ thing we can think about is what kind of a monster will attack us next time.”

Clarke opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off before she can even begin, “People like me are _cowards_. We bask in the glory of being the oldest one, which means we're essentially in charge of the younger delinquents. We promise to protect them, but fail miserably and then we have to go back to being what we were in the beginning: Nothing and _no one_.”

“Bellamy-” she starts again, but he shakes his head furiously at her.

“Don't you _see,_ Clarke?” he asks her. “Don't you see that people like me aren't destined to be happy? People like me question every moment of happiness that we've _ever_ gotten over the years, because it always comes back to bite us in the ass. People like me aren't supposed to meet people like _you_ and we definitively aren't supposed to fall in love with them... And _yet-_ ”

His voice breaks off and he meets those bright blue eyes that have had him under their spell since the first time he looked into them, even though he might not have known it at the time.

He holds out his hands wide to show her just how damaged he is because his breathing for one still isn't as stable as he'd like it to be and two because there is now a tear rolling down his cheek. With a shrug, he lets his arms fall back down to his side and he knows that the cat is out of the bag now and he's already confessed his deepest, darkest secret. “ _Here I am_.”

His words make her breathe out and she stands from the bed and walks toward him, but he can't have her close because he doesn't want to taint her with himself.

“Bellamy,” she shakes her head, reaching for him with her hand but he flinches away from her touch. The movement makes her freeze and he feels horrible for it.

“I'm damaged beyond repair, Clarke,” he tells her again. “My mother would be ashamed of me, if she knew about the things I've done-”

“To protect others, Bellamy!” Clarke protests loudly, but he just shakes his head again.

“Stop trying to justify what I've done!” he yells at her and hates himself even more when she is the one to flinch now. “I will always be the man who shot Jaha, I will always be the boy who got his mother floated and his sister put in prison. I'll always be the guy who threw the radio into the river and caused the death of over 300 people, Clarke!”

“Stop blaming yourself for everything!” Clarke yells back, an angry look making its way up onto her face. “You didn't know about the radio! You did everything to protect Octavia!”

“And _myself!_ ” he reminds her. Now tears are falling down her cheeks and he is trying his hardest not to reach out and brush them away. “I'm selfish, Clarke. Why can't you see that? People who have done things I have done should rot in hell, _alone_ and we should never be allowed to touch people like you, Clarke. And I'm sorry, because no matter how deeply I feel for you, I just can't look past all that when I know that I'll ultimately be the one to drag you down with me when I crash and burn; it's inevitable.”

“I forgive you for all of those things, Bellamy,” Clarke cries. “Stop trying to push me away!”

“It's not enough, Clarke!” he tells her, but deep down it feels like a lie. “It's not enough.”

Clarke glares at him and then angrily wipes her tears away, pushing past him as he steps out of his tent.

Bellamy has never felt more alone.

* * *

This time, they both avoided each other.

He isn't blind though; he sees the way she doesn't smile anymore and how she's always in deep thoughts, mumbling things under her breath that sound a lot like his name. Octavia tries to talk to him about it, but he refuses to listen to her until she actually tells him that Clarke is not only quiet nowadays, but also _hurting_.

He loathes himself for hurting her by pushing her away, despite knowing that it was for the better, which he keeps telling himself to justify his actions.

Whenever they have to be in the same room and are forced to talk to each other, they do, but otherwise, they make sure not to cross paths. The people around them noticed the change but no one said anything, not wanting to get involved in whatever it was that had gone down between them.

He tries hard not to think about his confession, still, it always worms its way back into his thoughts, especially late at night.

He loves her, but he knows that she deserves so much better than him.

One night, when he's out hunting with some guards and Finn, the acid fog rolls in and he gets separated from the group. It takes hours until the fog fades and he falls asleep in a cave similar to the one he once shared with Charlotte. When he returns to the camp the next day, the others have already returned safely and were preparing to send out a search party for him, Clarke in the lead.

He meets her gaze, but doesn't say anything, and she bristles.

Things are yelled, feelings are hurt and Clarke looks as if she wants to punch him. Instead, she picks up a bucket of water and pours it over his head before stomping off, refusing to answer him when he calls her name.

Later, when he walks back to his tent, hair still wet from the water she drowned him in, he freezes the moment he pulls the flaps away to enter.

“What are you doing here?” he frowns at her, walking in even though every fiber of his body is telling him that he should run the other way, all in the name of protecting her from him.

“I've been thinking about the things you said,” she tells him, standing from where she sat on his make-shift bed. “I came to a few conclusions that I'd like for you to hear.”

“Too bad, Princess,” he mutters, “I'm not in the mood of listening.”

“Just shut up and sit down, Bellamy,” she ignores him. He does as she says, despite knowing that he probably shouldn't. “What was the first thing I ever said to you after we arrived on Earth?” she asks him and he stares.

“I don't remember,” he lies, knowing that he remembers very vividly the moment he had first laid eyes on the infuriating blonde.

“I told you that we couldn't just open the doors to the dropship because the air might be toxic,” she reminds him anyway. “Which is kind of pessimistic, don't you think? But I guess that's just the way people like _us_ are.”

The pointed look she gives him makes his stomach flip.

“Clarke–“

“I think I gave you very specific instructions to keep you mouth shut,” she deadpans, narrowing her eyes at him. “Last time, you did the talking and now it's my turn, Bellamy.” She takes a breath, bracing herself for the speech she's prepared, and he finds himself with his mouth closed, waiting for her to continue.

“People like us take responsibility for the younger kids, because we _want_ to keep them safe by protecting them. Even though we might fail them, they still look up to us and they do that because they know that we did out best, which is really all they can ask from us,” she says. “People like us are _someone_ to them, Bellamy.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but she beats him to it. It's probably a good thing too because he can already feel tears stinging in his eyes and his throat is clogging up with emotions.

“People like us question happiness because we don't think we deserve it, and maybe we don't, but that doesn't mean we can't give it a try, even if it _does_ come back to bite us in the ass,” she smiles sadly. “People like us might be damaged, beyond repair and we might blame ourselves for everything that is wrong in the world, but that is only because we don't want others to blame themselves.”

He dares himself to look into her eyes and when he does, he sees that she too has tears brimming them, threatening to fall.

“We might be selfish, Bellamy,” she says, “but I think that it also makes us _selfless_. I think that people like us are like the stars that burn brightest in the sky and we want to keep people away from us in order to save them from the inevitable explosion that happens when we burn out. I also think that this is what makes us so special.”

“You sure have some funny thoughts, Princess,” he whispers and she once again smiles sadly at him. She walks toward him and settles on the bed next to him, reaching for his hand. When she laces their fingers together, he does nothing to pull away from her touch.

“People like us think we don't deserve love,” she continues, her voice low. “But I think we're the ones who deserve the most love, but I also think that only people like us, who understand us, can give it to us. Maybe you're right though and people like us aren't supposed to fall in love and live happily ever after...”

He feels dread rise in his chest and he realizes what a terrible mistake he's made. He has finally done it; pushed her away from him entirely and she is telling him that it's over forever. Meeting her eyes, he begs her to continue but at the same time, he's afraid of what she'll say next.

“Maybe we aren't supposed to fall in love,” she repeats, squeezing his hand lightly. “Maybe we _weren't_ supposed to fall in love. And yet–“she breathes in sharply and shakes her head lightly, “–you're in love with me and I'm in love with you.”

Her other hand comes up to rest against his cheek and she leans her forehead against his, closing her eyes. He revels at the feeling of having her so close to him and it takes him a minute to realize that she isn't leaving him like he left her. Instead, she's promising him that she'll be there, like he should have, because against all odds, she _loves_ him.

“I guess we're both pretty screwed up then, huh?” he speaks before he can stop himself. Her eyes snap open and a small laugh escapes her lips.

“Can we be screwed up together?” she asks him as she leans closer to him, her shoulder touching his, their faces even closer than before.

“I still think you deserve better,” he tells her, but his hand comes to rest on her cheek too.

“And I still think you're stupid,” she counters playfully, probably already knowing that she's won this battle.

“And against all odds, I still love you,” he says softly. “Even though I kind of hated you when you dumped that bucket of water on my head.”

She laughs and touches his curls, that are still damp. “You looked like you needed a shower,” she grins.

“I spent the whole night in a cave, Clarke,” he reminds her. “And before that I was hunting and running from acid fog.”

“And you were kind of an asshole,” she tells him defiantly. “But it kind of makes me love you even more.”

Bellamy doesn't say anything. He just pulls her closer and presses his lips against hers in a searing kiss.

They might be messed up and they might not feel like they deserve happiness, but in that moment, Bellamy really doesn't care because everything that he knows, feels and breathes is Clarke Griffin and he loves her.

The best part though, is knowing that she loves him too and that he'll do his very best to be the man he believes she deserves, while knowing that for her, he is already enough.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... What did you think? Please share your thoughts in a comment, but remember to be nice! =) Thank you so much for reading and giving the story a shot! Lots of love!


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